Team Free Will
by Bunny1
Summary: Tag to 'The Song Remains the Same' and 'My Bloody Valentine'. The angels kept beating into them that they had no choice... what happens when they finally decide to play their game... on Winchester terms?


~February, 2010~

Sam paced, a thought ever-present in his mind. He would fix this. He would... he... _must_...

He gently shook Dean awake, but almost regretted it. Dean looked like hell; probably hadn't slept much since he'd gone into detox again, but, Sam was better, dry again.

"Sammy?" Dean rasped. "What're you doing?"

"I'm okay." Sam said softly. "Cas let me out."

Dean frowned at him. "Cas!" he yelled.

"Don't yell at him--- he let me out 'cause I was okay to come out." Sam sighed, running a hand through his hair.

He felt sick, like he had a fever, a migraine of vision-days proportions coming on, but... he wasn't jonesing. Not right now...

Castiel popped into the room. "Yes, Dean?"

"He's really okay? You're not just---"

"He is really fine. Weak, but all right." Cas said softly, then looked at Sam with an almost deer-in-the-headlights expression. "I meant physically, I didn't mean..."

"It's okay, Cas. Really." Sam dismissed. "But... I have been thinking while I was in there. They're lying to us. Have been from the get-go. I say we play their game on our terms."

Dean arched an eyebrow at him. "What are you on about?"

"The Winchester bloodline, it's a vessel for Micheal."

"Sammy, I am _not_ gonna be violated Oz style by some dickhead who wants to play Cain and Abel with our bodies!" Dean growled.

"I know!" Sam said back. "Let me _finish_!"

Dean held up his hands. "Easy, okay? Just... what?"

"Dean... if Dad was a vessel, and you are... what if I could be too? Did they ever think of that?"

Dean frowned. "_Yes_, that's what they're trying to make you _do_, Sam..."

"No! A vessel for _Micheal_!"

Castiel looked at Dean as if this had never occurred to him.

"_No_, Sam!" Dean said in his "end of discussion" voice. "_If_ he'll even accept you, there's a 50-50 shot you'll come out of it a drooling, cross-eyed vegetable!"

"There's a 50-50 shot I won't..." Sam said cajolingly.

"And if you don't, I'm stuck with Lenny from 'Of Mice and Men'!"

"You watched that movie?" Sam asked incredulously.

"Dude, Burgess Meredith _and_ Lon Cheney? Of course!"

Sam shrugged. Of course...

"Dean... they're pounding the shit out of the fact that we don't have free will... I think they're working awful hard to convince us of something if it doesn't matter what we think one way or the other, don't you?"

Dean nodded slowly. "Yes, Sammy, but..." his eyes looked suspiciously wet. "I can't... I can't loose you like that."

"You won't. I promise. Now..."

And, Sam stood throwing his arms out and looking up into the sky, like Jennifer Love Hewitt in some bad slasher flick sequel. "Micheal! Micheal, you arrogant son of a bitch! Take me! Come and fucking take me! Please..." he whispered, the last word coming out sad and desperate...

* * *

~February, 2030~

Dean walked onto the porch, nursing a frosty Miller High Life. The purple glow of twilight was setting in, and there were two boys standing in the yard; one about 16, one about 14, looking over an engine.

"C'mon, Colt," the younger one said, "just lemme see..."

"All right, Johnny." he said complacently, moving aside.

Playing on the porch were three little girls, two identical ones about 9 with long black ponytails, and a sweet little blondie about four in a ballerina costume. Dean scooped the baby up into his arms.

"Daddy!" she squealed, throwing her arms around his neck. Dean smiled.

"Hello, Samantha."

About this time, a yellow car pulled into the driveway, and Sam's big sasquatch frame stepped out, holding bags of takeout food.

"Daddy!" the twin girls called, running to him.

"Hey, Jess, Joanna." he grinned, tossing the food to Johnny so he could scoop them up into his arms and carry them up to the porch.

"Dad, can me an' Colt go to a party later?" Johnny asked, cramming fries as he walked into the house.

"Okay with me if it's okay with your Uncle Dean." Sam shrugged, sitting the twins down.

Colt gave Dean a cocky grin, looking for all the world like his mini-me clone. "Whatdya say, Pops?"

Dean grinned. "Yeah, sure."

"Wan' go with Colt, Daddy!" Samantha said loudly in his ear.

"_No_, Peanut, you can go to parties when you're older." Dean smirked.

"When?"

"When you're 30." Colt said, giving his sister's ponytail a gentle tug as he walked past her.

Samantha pouted for a moment, but then clapped her hands as a familiar figure walked up. "Unca Cas!" she called, scrambling to get down.

And, the dark-haired man bent down to pick her up, smiling at her. Sam looked around the house, and realized he'd spent three or four years being wrong. They were still hunters, that would never change, but... they _could_ have the "apple pie life" without everything going to shit. Team Free Will had won... and they would keep fighting the good fight to be worthy of the rewards they had been given...


End file.
